Page 50 of Bound By Fury

He’s shaking with what seems like rage. But there’s an underlying emotion that I can’t place.

I roll my eyes.

From behind us, a vaguely familiar voice. “Kai? Harper? Seriously? Invocation ended over an hour ago. I would expect you both to be safely in your rooms by now if you aren’t participating in the march.” The figure speaks from within the shadows of the administration building.

I shrink back, embarrassed and nervous, but Malachi just stares ahead, fists balled at his sides.

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I check the time. 12:50 a.m. My mind whirs with chaos. How is that possible? I couldn’t have entered the woods any later than 10:45.

How did I not notice that so much time had passed?

The figure steps into the glare of the streetlamp.

“Al.” Malachi sounds less than impressed by his uncle who’s now approaching us, his hands tucked behind his back. Dark circles and puffy, tired bags weigh down the headmaster’s stern face, save for the slightly amused smirk pulling at the side of his lips.

“Well, isn’t this reminiscent of the past. Didn’t think y’all would get back to your old ways quite this quickly.” He chuckles to himself. “Sneaking out way past dark… though from the looks of it, y’all are still fighting.” He tsks.

I glance at Malachi, but he’s a statue.

“Harper, honey, I know you know better than most that it’s not safe to be roaming around campus at night like this. Coyotes, bears.” He waves his hand around. “I can give you this pass because of Invocation Night, but I don’t want to see it happen again.”

“S-sorry,” I stutter. “I must have lost track of time.”

Headmaster Matsoukas nods. “Of course, dear, I know you’re still getting used to things around here. Malachi, on the other hand,” he says, facing his nephew. He tugs at his chin, a silver ring glinting in the moonlight. It’s engraved with something, but it’s too far away to decipher. “We’ve taught you better than this.”

I look between Malachi and his uncle. There’s a silent conversation flowing between them according to the set of his jaw.

After a long minute the headmaster clears his throat. “That all being said, this is your first and only warning, guys. Next time you’re caught outside after curfew, we’ll have to implement disciplinary measures. Your safety at this school is our number one priority. Y’all are old enough by now to understand there are consequences for your actions.”

I give Headmaster Matsoukas a smile and another apology before quickly turning toward the dorm building. Malachi’s pace behind me is leisurely and arrogant.

I try to remember if this is a change—the tension between the two of them. Though it seems pretty one sided. Maybe Malachi’s daddy issues have transferred to his uncle. It’s a shame. Every memory I have of Alastair is edged in golden light. He’s a sweet man. A widower. As far as I can tell, he’s been a decent dad to Lucas.

I wonder if he knew about what Josiah was doing to Kai. I wonder if he ever stepped in. Protected him.

If he did, I don’t think it helped much.

We enter the dorm in silence, our footsteps echoing in the emptiness of the hall. I jump when the sharp ding of the arriving elevator pierces the quiet. The energy inside the small wooden box is charged. It smells like old books and floral air freshener. We barely fit side by side, so instead Malachi stands behind me.

I hit the button for the fourth floor, quietly gasping when my back brushes against his front on accident. A pained hiss falls from his lips.

Straightening my spine, I freeze, holding my breath as my heart beats erratically.

I unzip his jacket and slide it over my shoulders, each passing second stretched in the tight space between us.

Slowly Malachi leans forward, practically wrapping himself around me as he hits the button for the second floor before plucking the jacket from the tip of my outstretched finger.

We left our last summer together on uncertain ground. So many things went unsaid. Unresolved. So many feelings have languished, festered, corrupted what we had. And being here now, so close to him—it’s fucking with my head.

Neither of us acknowledges the tension. The familiar tug. The ache. The sizzling zaps that sting in the slim gap between our bodies.

I’d think it was all in my head, that I was the only one affected by our proximity, if it weren’t for his ragged breathing and the click of his forefinger against the cuticle of his thumb. An anxious habit I can recognize from sound alone.

Malachi says he hates me. And I guess I hate him too. Because how can anything else be born of the pain he’s caused me? I think, though, as the elevator dings and crawls to a stop at his floor, that maybe love and hate are two sides of the same irresistible coin, and now that the innocence of whatever we had in the past is gone, in its place is something far more dangerous.

When he slips past me into the hall, I sag with relief. I don’t say goodbye. He doesn’t look back.

Later, when I finally stumble into my room after a much-needed shower, my bed is a cloud as I collapse onto it with exhaustion. I have so many loose threads to a mystery that I’m not sure I’m prepared to solve.